Page 61 of Pick Me

“I know. I’m just stating facts. That’s why you’ll never be a pick-me. People want to know you, not the other way around.”

He said the words like he meant them, and I was too embarrassed to really look at him again. “My turn. Never have I ever worn a baseball cap.”

Staring down at his beer, Jackson let out an amused snort, then took yet another swig. “Bit of a boring one, Pyro. Not surprised you haven’t, though. You want people to see you, but you don’t like to be seen.”

“You’re not making sense again.”

“What’s it like being the sister of an already famous athlete?” I paused, my stomach bottoming out, not knowing what to say. “I can imagine there’s a lot of pressure there, right? People think you’ll be just as good as him, and although you are, I bet you never feel quite good enough, do you?”

I rolled my eyes, sighing in an attempt to pretend I didn’t care. He was right, though. “Didn’t realize you’d become a psych major.”

“I don’t need to be a psych major to see you, Thea. You may not want to hear or believe it coming from me, but you are enough. In fact, I think you’re perfect.”

Perfect? No one had ever said that about me before, and I could tell from the look in Jackson’s eyes, he wasn’t joking. His eyes darkened as he took me in, and I felt something between us I didn’t like. Tension, but not the kind I was used to. Instead of being filled with anger and frustration, there was something else between us. Lust maybe? A chill ran up my spine because I didn’t want to think about that.

“It’s your turn, Baseball Cap. Otherwise, we’ll never finish this game.”

“You’re right. There are far more interesting ways to keep you up all night than playing this.” His words were pointed and heated, and he wanted me to take the innuendo out of it. “How about, never have I ever lied to a roommate?”

“And you thought my baseball cap one was weird.” I sat back. Thinking about it for a second. Had I ever lied to a roommate? Although there were girls at the sorority, I didn’t lie to any of them or really consider any of them roommates since I was on a completely different floor to the rest of them. The only two people I’d consider roommates were Tanner and Jackass—I mean, I’d lied to both of them, so I guessed I was taking a drink.

Jackson blew out a breath, relaxing against the couch as he took me in. Tutting, he said, “What did you lie about?”

“Nothing to you. Believe me, you’re not important enough to lie to. Tanner, however, is my brother, after all, and if I didn’t lie to him once in a while, then I’d never leave the apartment.”

“Why is that? Why’s he so overprotective of you?”

I shrugged. “He’s my brother. They’re always overprotective.”

“See, I don’t buy it. There’s something about Tanner when you’re around. It’s like he gets anxious and assumes everyone is a potential threat. He doesn’t even treat Aster with the same protectiveness as you. I’d argue she’d need it more since she ticked off the hockey team. You, though, he acts like you’re this wilting flower he’s trying to stop from dying.”

I tensed at the analysis, knowing the truth would open an entirely new can of worms. One I wasn’t sure I was ready to talk about. I was already known for starting fires in this place; if anyone else knew what happened in high school, then they might think I brought these things on myself.

“It’s not important. You’re right, though, he really shouldn’t be concerned about my safety. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. My turn,” I said to divert the attention from me. “Never have I ever slept with a girl knowing she’d made my teammate’s sister cry.”

There. The biggest F-U statement I could say to Jackson.

He was quiet, and my heart was beating wildly, the vulnerability hitting me in ways I didn’t think possible. Seeing his smug smile leave his face did make me feel better, though.

Deep down, I knew Jackson wasn’t a bad guy. He wanted everyone to think he was carefree and a joker, but it was obvious if you looked close enough. The dumb jock jokes hurt him as much as the pick-me comments hurt me, and although it sucked being the sister of the best quarterback in college football, it must suck being his teammate, watching him get drafted while you were stuck repeating your junior year.

Chastising my own thoughts for sounding like I felt sorry for that idiot, I threw him a sarcastic smile.

“What are you talking about? When were you crying?” He put his two brain cells together and thought about it. “Wait a minute, are you talking about Grace?” He shook his head, letting out a disbelieving breath. “How many times am I going to have to tell you, I didn’t sleep with Grace. I kicked her out after I saw how upset she made you.”

I lifted my head, scanning his face for any hint of deception, but all I found was raw sincerity.

“If I had known you were crying, I would have dipped your precious grapes in chocolate and brought them to you on my knees.” He pursed his lips together, looking up to the ceiling before back to me. “Hell, I bought you every fruit on the planet to try to prove to you I was sorry.”

“Are you going to drink?” I said as I glared at his fingers gripping the beer bottle, and my stomach filled with anxious anticipation. He would take a sip of that liquid, and my heart would break over it.

“No. I didn’t do it, and I’m not going to let you think otherwise.”

“Then you’ve already lost the game.”

“You’re frustrating as hell, you know that?”

“I’m just playing the game with honor. You’re cheating.”

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